On The Run
by foreverGleek20
Summary: When Rachel needs to run away from the world, where does she turn to? Or more specifically who? The one person who always understood her better than she ever could, and the one person that she needs in ways that even she can't understand. Noah Puckerman.


_**Author's Note:** I am back, with a new multi-chapter fic that I do intend to finish! This story has been in the works for almost 3/4 of the year, and I thought it only fitting that I posted it just in time for a special birthday dedication to one of the most amazing writers and twins that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She has been a huge inspiration to me and a big source of encouragement to keep writing! So here **Meagan** (27vampyresinhermind on here and musicconsumes on Twitter)! It's all for you, bb! Happy Birthday! Here's your story! :)_

_P.S. I don't own Glee or the characters and am not profiting off of this in any way!_

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><p>"The fuck?" He had tried to ignore the pounding coming from the door by pulling the pillow over his head. Didn't work.<p>

He rolled over and looked at the clock. 2:30 in the fucking morning. Who the fuck would be standing outside his door at this hour? And damn them for waking him! One of his only nights he could actually get some sleep in his own bed and they were fucking waking him up. If it was one of his asshole bandmates, they were dead. He could always replace them, he thought as he climbed out of bed and made his way to the door.

"Ughh," he uttered, when the pounding continued furiously. "I'm coming you assholes," he yelled, reaching the door and yanking it open.

His eyes widened. It wasn't Finn. Or Sam. Or even Mike. At this point though, they might have been a more welcome visitor than the one he was now locking eyes with. "Rachel?"

She stood there, frozen, with her hand in mid-knock for a few seconds. Sure, she had planned on showing up at his place, but clearly she hadn't thought past the part where she knocked on the door because she couldn't really get her mouth to move when she took in the man standing before her. She swallowed hard, and then collected herself. "Noah," she greeted, dropping her arm to her side and putting it inside the pocket of her coat. "While I appreciate the kind greeting I was afforded, do you think you could be a gentlemen and let me in? It's cold and your doorman won't stop leering at me."

He peered out the door at Danny, who was winking and giving him the thumbs up sign. He shook his head and stepped aside to let her in the door. "Yeah, sorry about my, um, greeting. I just thought that it was Finn or..." he apologized, before he stopped. "Wait a minute. What the hell are you doing here? Do you realize its 2:30 in the fucking morning? I shouldn't have to apologize. You woke me up! Now you've got some explaining to do."

"Yeah, I probably should've thought my timing out better, and for that, I'm sorry. I should've realized that you would enjoy your being able to sleep in your own bed," she rambled, noticing his small nod of agreement. "I mean what with your not being home every night. I shouldn't have been so quick to assume my presence would be welcomed. I just figured you'd be up enjoying the night." Then it hit her. "Oh my god, Noah! I'm not interrupting THAT am I?" She squealed and started grabbing the few bags he realized she had brought with her. "I didn't even think... I'm very sorry..."

He reached his arm out and stopped her before she bolted out the door. "No!" he said emphatically. He didn't understand his sudden need for her to know he was sleeping alone, but then again he couldn't miss the look of relief that crossed her face when he spit out his next words. "I mean, no, Rachel, you're fine. I was just sleeping. Alone. I see high school perceptions never die," he added crossly, slightly annoyed by her obvious assumption.

Setting her bags back down, she replied. "Again, I'm sorry. It's just, you had your share of trysts back then. Now that you're a famous frontman for one of the hottest rock bands around, you can't fault me for assuming that you'd be even more occupied now than back in Lima."

While speaking, she had crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive stance and Puck couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Some people never change. "Yeah, whatever. I'd love to sit here and reminisce about the good old days, but need I remind you it's 2:30 in the morning? What the hell are you doing here?"

She gave a small nod and inhaled quickly. "Right." She moved to the arm of the couch and sat down.

He watched her fingers dance over the hem of her coat as she contemplated her words. His mind wandered momentarily as he thought about how quickly he could get underneath that hem... And everything else. Realizing his mental slip, he drove that thought from his head with a shake and took a seat on the chair beside the couch. "I'm all ears, Rach."

They continued to sit in silence until she finally spoke. "I just didn't know where else to go."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "It's been eight years since we've seen each other. You're telling me I'm the first one you thought of?"

"You're right. This was a mistake," she said softly, standing up and grabbing her bags, then heading for the door for the second time in a matter of the short fifteen minutes she'd been there.

He stood up and rushed toward her. Grabbing her arm again to stop her, they both paused. His eyes locked with hers as she looked up at him and be swallowed hard. Her eyes trailed down to the spot where his fingertips were searing her skin. Even her coat couldn't hide that. She started to speak, but couldn't make a sound. Her mouth closed just as quickly as it opened. There was no way she was going to be humiliated more tonight.

"Rach, I didn't mean it like that," he sighed, releasing her arm.

"Noah, if you don't want me here, I'm not going to stay and be a nuisance." She turned from him and began walking toward the door again, albeit slowly.

Standing there, hands on his hips loosely, he rolled his eyes. Leave it to her to throw in the dramatics. "No, seriously, Rachel. It's late. It's cold. I'm not throwing you out on your ass at three in the morning so you can freeze to death. Or get mugged. I may be an asshole, but even I'm above that."

She paused, her eyes wide with horror at the thought of getting mugged. Or worse. He let out a chuckle and took her bags from her. When she finally took a breath, he smiled. "You can stay here on the couch. I've got extra blankets in the closet. Let me get you some."

She took off her coat as he went and rifled through the shelves. Making herself comfortable, she surveyed her surroundings. He kept his little studio apartment pretty clean she noted. It was pretty barren, though. There were no decorations or pictures. The furniture was simple and functional. The one sign of this being a typical bachelor pad was the oversized TV and the mass of video games next to his console. Boys and their stupid toys.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't realized he had returned and was holding out a few blankets to her. It was only when he cleared his throat that she looked up at him. "Thanks," she replied, taking them from his hands and setting them beside her.

"So," he started, settling on the arm of the couch so that they were right next to each other. "You never did tell me what you're doing here."

When she dropped her head again and started tracing the seam of her jeans with her finger, he had to fight the urge to wrap her up in his arms. She just looked so... Broken. He chased that thought from his mind with a shake of his head and mentally chastised himself for once again having those crazy thoughts. It was Rachel freaking Berry for Christ's sake!

After five minutes and still no answer from her, he decided it was time to call it a night. "It's ok, Rach. You don't have to talk now. You're probably tired. We'll talk in the morning." he stood up and turned off the light, leaving just the glow of the city lights filtering in the window. "Oh yeah, the bathroom's through that door if you wanna change," he added, pointing next to the stove. "Goodnight, Rachel."

"Goodnight, Noah," she whispered. "And thank you for this." She motioned to the couch and blankets.

He smiled and replied, "No problem. Now get some sleep," as he made his way over to his bed beneath the window. Settling in, he heard the bathroom door close. His mind wandered to that crazy place again and he let out a small groan.

This couldn't have been weirder if Beth had shown up at his doorstep. But Rachel? He knew she had been untapped territory in high school. Not for lack of trying, from either side really, but just because they had done this dance of he's-fucking-around-she's-single and she's-taken-he's-single after they dated sophomore year. She had droned on one day near the end of their senior year about it being fate or some shit and that's where it ended. After graduation, he headed for the Hollywood hills and she fled to the bright lights of Broadway.

But her actually being here after all these years? It was dredging up old feelings he'd rather stayed buried. He guessed part of him had always wondered 'what if', but he'd assume it was just the guilt his ma had put on him about finally getting his act together. Now, because of her late night visit, he found himself thinking about things he didn't want to be thinking about.

It was stupid. He just wanted to sleep. He rolled over and closed his eyes. Then he rolled to the other side and opened them. The slow rush of blood that was heading south, proved to be hindering his efforts. His internal dialogue about taking care of it versus ignoring it was complicated by the fact that Rachel was only a few feet away and would be walking out of the bathroom any moment. His bathroom. Where she had been naked.

Fuck it. He took his length in his hand and began stroking, slowly at first, and then faster as he tried to imagine his last conquest after their show at the House of Blues. Try as he might, though, that image wasn't the one forming in his mind. All he could picture was that one week spent on Rachel's bed working on mash-ups. Of course he still remembered that shit. Golden spank bank material. In fact, he still occasionally brought that particular image out on nights he needed a quick release.

Like tonight. Before he knew it, he hit the peak and sank his head deeper into his pillow, slowing his breaths. Good thing she was still in the bathroom. Wait. How fucking long had she been in there? What the hell was she doing? No. He was not going there. Not.

Rolling over, he threw a pillow over his head and finally drifted off to a peaceful sleep, just as she stepped out of the bathroom. She heard his light snoring and giggled softly. She never would have pegged him as a snorer. But she was thankful he was asleep. She had felt bad about waking him.

Making her way to the couch, she laid out the blankets and then crawled under them. Surprisingly, sleep came easy to her, even in her unfamiliar surroundings. Falling asleep to the rhythm of his soft snores just a few feet from her, she couldn't help the soft smile on her lips. What else was she supposed to do when her last thoughts before drifting off were of that week during sophomore year that they had spent with their hands all over each other?


End file.
